


End of the Line

by Fyre



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-15 16:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18673459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre
Summary: Sometimes, it takes a friend to know what's best for you.SPOILERS FOR ENDGAME





	End of the Line

**Author's Note:**

> First off, this has major, major canon spoilers for Endgame. Not seen the film? Don't read the fic. If you read it and you're spoiled, don't come crying to me! I warned you! :)
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> .
> 
> Otherwise, I have no idea why this went the way it did, but I'm glad it did. It gives me happy face :)

The sun was low over the lake. The water was lapping quietly against the shore.

Steve turned another pebble in his hand, then tossed it, skimming it low across the water. It vanished into the shimmering ripples after the fifth bounce.

He could hear the footfalls approaching and knew it was deliberate. If Bucky didn’t want anyone to hear him, they wouldn’t. 

“Not as bad as you used to be.”

Steve didn’t turn. “Yeah. Had some practise.”

Bucky took another two steps closer, off the path and down onto the grass. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. He’d been there as decisions were made and plans were laid out. He hadn’t said a word then, watching and listening.

Another pebble rippled out across the water and vanished. 

“I could go with you,” he finally murmured. 

Steve straightened up, staring out at the horizon.

Part of him always knew it would come down to that, but God, he was tired of seeing the people he loved being hurt. Too many good people were in the ground, pulled into fights they should never have been part of. Bucky had already been dragged into that over and over. He had enough blood on his hands. He didn’t need more. 

“I can’t ask you to do that,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

Steve looked down at the last pebble between his fingers, turning it over and over. “I can get by on my own.” Better. Safer for everyone else who had survived.

A hand – flesh, not metal – grasped his shoulder and suddenly he was twenty-one again, fumbling with the keys of the apartment that had never felt exactly like home again, the dirt of his mom’s graveside still clinging to his shoes. “You don’t have to.”

Steve’s face crumpled. “Jesus, Buck…”

Bucky squeezed his shoulder. “C’mon, Captain America, sir. I got beer and chased all the kids away from the bench by the dock.”

Steve nodded, pressing his eyes closed for a second. If Bucky noticed how wet his face was, he didn’t say anything and Steve didn’t care. 

They walked along the water’s edge towards the small dock. As promised, there were bottles of beer waiting and for a long while, they sat in silence on the bench, watching the birds flying over the water. 

“You know what pisses me off?” Bucky suddenly said.

“Hm?” Steve took another swig of his beer.

“This.” Bucky held up his own. “I used to get a buzz. Now? Nothing.”

Steve laughed quietly. “Yeah. Doesn’t even taste that good either, does it?”

“Damn right.” It didn’t stop Bucky chugging the rest of the bottle. He leaned back against the bench, stretching out his legs. “You gonna tell me?”

“Tell you?” Steve glanced at him.

Bucky was gazing out over the horizon. “What you haven’t told everyone else. What’s going on in that melon of yours.” He slanted a sidelong look at Steve. “And don’t give me any bullshit about putting things right.”

“It is–”

“Okay, yeah.” Bucky waved a hand. “Putting things right is part of it, but I saw you in that briefing. You were a thousand miles away.”

Steve frowned down at the bottle in his hands. He picked at the label with a nail, peeling narrow strips of it away from the glass. Bucky wasn’t wrong. As soon as they hit the part of the briefing about returning the tesseract…

“We collected the stones,” he finally said. “Like they said. We have to put them back.”

Bucky didn’t speak, waiting for him to be ready, to say what he knew he needed to say.

“The tesseract. We– me and Tony– we had to double-back when our first plan fell apart.” He took a shaking breath. “1970. Camp LeHigh. SHIELD base of operations.”

“1970,” Bucky echoed. He sounded puzzled, then his breath hissed between his teeth. “Shit. Carter.”

Steve slowly nodded. “Carter.” A strip of the label ripped away between his fingertips. “Peggy.” He shook his head, his eyes burning again. “I carried her coffin at her funeral and then, there she was, right in front of me.” He forced himself to look at Bucky. “I have to go back there and I know she’ll be there too.”

Bucky winced in sympathy. “Yeah. I can see why you didn’t say anything. Do they even know about her?”

Steve looked back at the bottle, shaking his head. “They didn’t need to know.” He blinked hard and took a shaky breath. “I– Nat knew. I think she guessed. I–” His voice broke and he laughed unsteadily. “God, she was so good. Of course she knew.”

Bucky nudged him gently. “She knew you.”

Steve nodded, trying – not for the first time – to parse the idea of this world without Natasha. Without Tony. “She tried to hook me up with people. Told me I needed to get a life away from all…” He waved around them helplessly. “Tony too.”

“Hey, pal,” Bucky nudged him again. “Don’t you forget who was first in line at that party.”

Steve managed a brittle smile. “Yeah. Third time’s the charm, right?”

Bucky looked surprised. “Yeah?”

Steve couldn’t look at him. “I’m tired, Buck. I’ve seen everyone I care about die. Some of them twice. I can’t– I’m– I only have so much left.” He licked his lower lip, then finally forced himself to give voice to the thought that had been sitting at the back of his mind since the briefing. “If I go back, this is my last mission. If I go… I don’t know if I can face coming back. Losing everything all over again.”

For a few seconds, it was as Bucky had vanished into thin air again. He didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, still as the grave. 

“Carter,” he finally whispered.

“Carter,” Steve echoed again. 

Of all the people who knew him, Bucky was the only one who would understand. He was the only one who had known them as they were. He was the only one who had watched as Steve fumbled his way through graceless attempts at courting on the battlefield. He knew what had been between them.

“God…” Bucky pushed himself to his feet. “I’ve been dust for too long. I should have guessed.”

“It’s not–”

“It’s about damned time.”

Steve came up short. “Huh?”

Bucky walked a few steps forward, hooking one thumb through his belt. “You,” he said. “You always do everything for everyone else, but this?” He glanced over his shoulder with a bittersweet smile. “Christ, Steve, do you know how long I’ve waited to see you do something for yourself?”

“I’m not that ba–” Steve began.

“Bullshit!” Bucky turned, shaking his head. He didn’t look mad, but Steve could tell it was hurting him. “You are _exactly_ that bad. Every damn thing you’ve done was for the greater good, for the little guy. You picked a fight with every damned person in the world because you wanted to protect me.”

Steve gazed up at him. “That wasn’t just for you, Buck.”

“Wasn’t just for you either, was it?” Bucky sighed and sprawled back down on the bench. He stared up at the sky. “D’you remember when you found me back in the day?”

Steve frowned. “Of course.”

“You know what I was thinking every damned day they took me in there?”

Steve shook his head. It was never something he’d wanted to ask about and back then, Bucky never spoke about it. 

“You.” Bucky smiled sadly at him. “That you were safe. That you were home. You were… living a life. Maybe you were even happy. I don’t know. I liked to imagine you were. Somewhere away from that…shithole.” He almost laughed, but it turned into a sigh. “Crazy, huh?”

“Buck…” Steve didn’t know what to say.

“See,” Bucky continued, as if he hadn’t spoken, “that’s what I wanted. I wanted you to be happy. I don’t remember a time when you were happy. Not really.”

Steve had to look away. “I was happy sometimes,” he said quietly.

“Sometimes,” Bucky murmured, “yeah. Between the assholes and your dad and your health and everything else going to hell in a handbasket.” He met Steve’s eyes. “You think you and Carter would be happy?”

Would they? It was always a gamble. She still had his picture. He still hers. But they had both changed. Time did that.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

Bucky was watching him. “Would you be happy here? Knowing you didn’t take a shot?”

“I don’t know.”

Bucky smiled crookedly. “There’s the Steve Rogers I know and love.” He propped his arms on the back of the bench, stretching his legs out again. 

Steve leaned forward, propping his arms on his thighs. “It’s not that simple, Buck. I have people here. I have a life.” He glanced at his friend. “I just got you back and now–”

“Hey, don’t pin this on me!” Bucky pointed at him. “I am _not_ taking responsibility for another one of your dumbass decisions.”

“Buck!”

“I’m serious!” Bucky sighed again. “Do you want to go back and see if it works out?”

Steve couldn’t stop himself from nodding. 

“Then you go.”

“But you–”

Bucky gave him a look. “Were you even listening to a damn thing I was saying?” He sat up and leaned forward, slinging his arm over Steve’s shoulders. “I want you to be happy. You get that, right? That’s all I wanted. To know you were safe and happy.”

“Safe,” Steve echoed with a tired laugh. “I don’t think I know how to do that.”

“One out of two is better than nothing.” Bucky squeezed his shoulders. 

Steve leaned into him like he used to when they were kids, gazing out at the sunset. It wasn’t a rooftop in Brooklyn and they weren’t kids anymore, but somehow, it felt the same. “I just got you back, Buck. I feel like– I– we always said…”

“The end of the line,” Bucky finished quietly. “Yeah. I know.” He propped his cheek against Steve’s crown. 

“I don’t want to leave you behind.”

Bucky was silent for a while, then tapped him on the shoulder. “You won’t be. You’ll be saving me early.”

Frowning, Steve sat up. “Say what now?”

“1970, right?” Steve nodded. “And if you stay, you’d be creating a new timeline, right?”

“I guess?”

“So you could… do things that you couldn’t do now?” Bucky raised his eyebrows when Steve looked even more bewildered. “Jesus, Rogers, you really are as blond as you look.” He held up his metal hand and waved his fingers. “You won’t be the only one who was running around back then.”

Steve stared at his hand, then back at him. “Oh…”

Bucky ruffled Steve’s hair with his other hand. “There it is.”

“That might be enough to save Howard…” Steve breathed. “Howard and his wife.” And then, it felt like a twist of a knife in his chest. “ _Tony_.”

“Hell,” Bucky said softly “if you go in there like your big superhero self, you could probably even adopt a Russian red head before she gets scooped up…”

Steve twisted under his arm to stare at him. “Are you trying to give me more reasons to go?”

Bucky nodded. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get you your happy ending, pal.”

Steve subsided back against his side, staring out at the sky. It was darker now, streaked with gold and purple. “We’re at the end of the line, huh?”

He felt Bucky’s smile against the top of his head. “You can always come back later. Let me know how it worked out. If you screw it up, I’ll come back and kick your ass myself.”

Steve laughed quietly. “I bet you would too.”

“Mm.” 

They sat in silence for a long time, until the sun was long gone and the pale gold was fading along the edge of the horizon.

“Steve,” Bucky murmured.

“Yeah?”

“You know who else is still out there in 1970?”

Steve frowned. “Who?”

“Tall, blond, popsicle-shaped. Likes hanging out in flying vehicles when they crash.”

Steve blinked at the skyline. “Oh. Shit. Yeah.”

Bucky’s lips were suddenly close by his ear. “You could make Carter a _very_ happy woman. Both of you.”

Steve burst out laughing, twisting back to look up at him. “Buck! You pig!”

Bucky grinned at him. “Hey, just a suggestion.” He raised his eyebrows. “So?”

Steve gazed at him. “I’ll think about it,” he finally said, then leaned back against Bucky’s arm. “You won’t tell anyone?”

“Nah.” Bucky patted his chest. “Not my place to tell your secrets.”

Steve propped his head against Bucky’s shoulder, slouching down on the bench. “Thank you.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else. He only tightened his arm, and together, they watched the stars come out. 

 

__________________________________

 

Steve didn’t come back.

Bucky wasn’t really expecting him to.

He’d watched him in the days that Banner was working on the portal. Steve’s mind was decades away. Little by little, he was convincing himself to go and be happy. As much as Bucky knew he would miss him, it was about damned time.

So they’d said their farewells as much as they could with Banner and Sam standing by and then, just like that, Steve was gone.

Banner and Sam had no idea what was happening. He could tell that much from the yelling and he glanced over towards the bench where he and Steve had talked, wondering if maybe…

His heart skipped a beat.

There was someone sitting there.

Grey-haired. Older. Someone who hadn’t been there only moments before.

He didn’t even need to see the familiar line of the jaw – wrinkled now – to know who it was. His legs shook and he knew he wouldn’t even be able to walk closer. He didn’t need to. Steve was there. 

“Sam…” he called, trying to keep them tremor from his voice.

The relief was like a tidal wave. Steve had gone and he’d lived and he’d come back and he was smiling. He was older. Much older. He had survived and he had _lived_ and God, wasn’t that exactly what Bucky had always wanted for him?

And somehow… somehow, he’d managed to come back to let him see it.

Bucky watched him talking to Sam, the smile aching to break on his cheeks.

And then the son of a bitch handed Sam Captain America’s shield. If he had the shield, that meant… 

Steve looked back at him and despite the lines and the age and the grey hair, the wicked gleam in his eye was still there. He met Bucky’s gaze, one side of his mouth twitching up, and he winked.

Bucky had to hide his face in his hand to smother the snort of laughter. More than one happy ending, then, he thought, shoulders shaking as he laughed into his hand and prayed to God that Banner and Sam thought he was crying.


End file.
